The History of Hamilton
by Taito-Yamachi-lvr
Summary: This basically tells you my idea of how George got to the bar and broke up with with his wife. Some humor. Chapter two will soon be up.
1. Default Chapter

"Hey. Hey, doc."

George's eyes fluttered open, and his head greeted him with a throbbing pain at once. He groaned, wishing he had remembered to bring aspirin, and slowly sat up, pushing himself to a sitting position. His body felt numb. How long had he been lying here?

"You all right, doc?"

George looked up at the speaker, and immediately recognized him. It was David, the quiet mechanic/plumber from the bar.

_The bar..._

"How did I wind up here?" George asked, climbing to his feet. All he remembered was going into the bar, noticing the various people, analyzing the bartender's wound-

_Wait!_

Zombies had invaded Raccoon City! Was he infected? How had he escaped? Surely he couldn't have escaped unscathed.

"The zombies!" George exclaimed. "Where are they?"

David peered over the side of the roof.

"Pretty much everywhere you look," he said.

George joined him in peering over the side, and was amazed at what he saw.

Hundreds, thousands of zombies prowled the streets, searching for fresh prey. Many surrounded the building he and David were on, somehow sensing their presence, despite the fact that most of the creatures' eyes were rotted. Off in the distance, George could see fires, broken windows, blood-stained walls, and the occasional zombie shuffling the streets.

He turned back to David.

"But...how did I get here?" he asked.

David thought, chewing on a toothpick that he took out of his pocket.

"It happened like this, doc," he began.

* * *

David was sitting in the corner, watching the other people in the bar. Everyone was mostly keeping to themselves, but the cop sitting at the counter looked like he was getting drunk enough to chance a talk with the woman reporter. David snorted. Alcohol, the artificial courage. Amazing what an effect it had on some people.

The door opened, and a doctor walked in, looking rather downcast, despite his obvious effort to keep his face emotionless.

David didn't like doctors much. Rich, snooty, bossy, "I-went-to-Harvard-and-you-didn't" personalities. How obnoxious.

He watched as the doctor's cell phone rang. The doctor pressed a button and quietly said, "Hello?"

David watched as his face became even blanker, although the grief in his eyes was visible even from the distant corner where he himself was sitting. After a few seconds, he looked at the phone, and hit a button to turn it off. He slowly tucked it back in his pocket, and ordered a wine from the waitress. He sat patiently, his hands clasped, waiting for the impending breakdown that was sure to follow whatever horrible thing had been said on the phone.

..._There was something about this doctor_, David thought to himself. David…trusted him. Whatever bad news--being laid off, failed heart transplant, whatever—the phone had brought, he didn't deserve it.

David stretched, then casually made his way over to the doctor's table.

* * *

"Wait, wait!" George said, interrupting David. "It's all coming back now!"

George told David what had happened earlier, before he had entered the bar.

* * *

"Rachael, I'm leaving work early," George said, stripping off his surgical gloves. "Tell anyone who calls that I won't be back until tomorrow."

The secretary nodded. "I will, Mr. Hamilton."

In the locker room, George quickly changed into his formal suit, the one that both he and his wife loved. He was just old-fashioned at heart.

Walking with a bounce in his step, he stopped at a florist's shop to gather some lilies that his wife, Carol, loved. Paying the owner, he walked to his car and sped home.

* * *

When he pulled up, all the lights were out but the bedroom light.

_How nice, _George thought, _Carol's staying up to wait for me._

He quietly let himself in and crept up the stairs, wanting to surprise her. He silently walked to the door, and just as he was about to turn the doorknob, his wife's laughter stopped him.

He drew back, staring at the door warily.

"Oh, _Sam_," she moaned, and then giggled again.

George felt a lump forming in his throat. He was going to be sick.

"You like it?" a male voice asked, causing Carol to laugh and then moan.

George slumped against the wall next to the door, feeling empty. How could his wife do this to him?

* * *

"Next week?" Carol asked Sam, nuzzling him as they opened the bedroom door.

George stepped out of the darkness, fixing them with a piercing glare.

"George!" Carol gasped, immediately taking a step back. "You're home early!"

"Yes," he said bitterly. He held up some lilies. "I came home to surprise my beautiful wife with her favorite flowers. I guess you had a bigger surprise for me."

He reached into his jacket pocket.

"What are you going to do?" she asked nervously, trembling a little. Sam stepped back as well, keeping his eyes on George's hand.

George pulled out his car keys. "I'm going for a drive."

He turned and went down the stairs, hearing his wife begging for him not to leave behind him.

"George, wait! You don't understand!" she pleaded, trying to follow him. "Don't go!"

George slammed the door.

* * *

George drove. He drove and drove and drove, but nothing changed. He was still seething over his wife's adultery. He had to get his mind off this. It would drive him crazy thinking about it.

He spotted a bar. Perfect. What better place to get your mind off something?

* * *

George walked in, not glancing at anyone. He sat down at the first table he reached, not looking up.

His phone rang a few minutes after he sat down. He had a feeling he knew who was calling as he answered.

"Hello?"

"George. I'm filing for a divorce," Carol said.

George waited for her to say something else, but realized she had hung up.

Feeling empty and alone, he turned his phone off and ordered some wine. It was time to muse over his life.

Someone sat down opposite him. George hadn't even seen him coming.

"Hey," the plumber/mechanic said, "you're not looking too good."

George shrugged. "I'd rather not talk about it."

The plumber/mechanic nodded quietly in understanding. George felt that he was being a bit rude to the man, so he stretched his hand across the table.

"George Hamilton," he said.

"David...King," the plumber/mechanic said, shaking George's hand.

* * *

"And...that's all I remember," George admitted.

"Oh, it gets better," David said.

* * *

The doctor drank his wine, and they both sat in silence. David watched as George looked at the various people in the bar, his eyes lingering on the blonde waitress. Maybe he was getting a little drunk.

"Are you drinking anything?" George asked, noticing David's empty hands.

David shook his head. "No. Alcohol's too harmful for you."

George nodded in agreement.

"I agree, but tonight, I really need it," George said, taking another sip of wine.

David said nothing, and waited for him to continue.

After taking a few more sips to free his tongue, George related what had happened tonight to David. David shook his head.

"Real kick in the nuts, huh?" David said.

George chuckled. "Yes, it was quite a blow." Damn he sounded sophisticated. He wasn't quite sure what that word meant at the moment, but he sounded like it.

* * *

"Oh, it's coming back now," George said. "I told you what happened, and then that zombie attacked the bartender."

* * *

The door swung open, but only David glanced up. George was too boozed up to see straight. He was slurring, had double vision, and couldn't walk in a straight line.

"Ha ha ha! Guess what, David? There's a doctor in the house! A ha ha ha ha ha!"

David frowned at him. "Damn you're drunk."

There was a gurgling behind them, and the door slammed closed. George turned around and saw the bartender on the ground, bleeding profusely from his throat. With a grunt, he got out of his chair, and staggered over to the bartender.

"Never fear, there's a doctor here!" he said, laughing at his own rhyme.

He knelt next to the bartender, but the poor guy was already gone. George assumed that the horrendous blood loss and shock did it to him. He stood up to face the others.

"I'm sorry to say this, but he's dead," he announced, and the others mumbled and sighed. A dismal mood hung over the bar like a rain cloud.

George sighed. Could things get any worse?

They could, as a matter of fact.

A man started pounding on the windows. George turned around and frowned at him.

"Go away," he said, but the man kept pounding.

"If you break those windows, you'll have to pay for them, and they aren't cheap," George warned, but the man kept pounding.

"Listen, you stupid bastard," George snapped, "Cut it out already!"

A cop at the counter came over. He was pretty wasted too.

"What do you think he's trying to do?" he asked. They both stared at him in silence, the pounding the only noise.

George shrugged. "Maybe he's too drunk to operate a door."

The cop nodded. They watched as more people joined the man in pounding on the windows.

"What, has the whole town gone insane?" George asked, shaking his head.

"Use the door, you idiots!" the cop yelled through the glass. "The door!"

The glass started to crack, and they both took a step back.

"I'm starting to think that maybe they aren't after the beer," the cop said, drawing his gun.

George blinked. "Maybe they're zombies."

Everything became quiet, and George was uncomfortably aware of all the eyes in the room focusing on him. He swallowed.

"You know, because they have bloody chunks missing out of them, they're moaning, and that one guy attacked the bartender in a cannibalistic manner." What the hell was he saying? George couldn't even understand himself.

"So, what you're saying is...we should run?" the woman reporter asked, standing up.

"Yeah." Zombies were invading, and George was drunk. Great.

He managed to stagger over to David.

"I think...too much wine..." he slurred, and passed out on David.

* * *

David made a face.

"And you smelled horrible! You drooled, too," he said. "You're just lucky that you're shorter than me, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to carry you out to the roof."

"Thank you." George cleared his throat. "Where are the others?"

David shrugged. "I don't know. They said I should stay behind and wait for you to wake up. Then they jumped to the other roof."

George looked around, desperately wanting either aspirin or more wine.

"Which direction?" he asked.

David pointed.

"I think they took a running start-" he began, but stopped, speechless, as George began to sprint.

George, running full out, made a great leap, soaring over to the other side. He stumbled and nearly fell, but he managed to catch his balance. He had made it.

He turned around.

"Come on, David!" he called. "It's the only way to go!"

David muttered something to himself, eyeing the gap between the two roofs.

"Are you coming or what?" George asked.

Taking a deep breath, David took a few steps back, and then took a running leap, barely making it to the other side. George had to haul him up, but they had both made it. They would find the others, but how many had survived, who knew...

* * *

Another fic, I know. I don't know whether or not I'll continue this. Lemme know what you think of it. 


	2. Jim

Sweat trickled down Jim's forehead as he cautiously crept down the deserted hall. He had put away the handgun he had found on the counter in the bar, as his hands were shaking too badly for him to aim properly.

_Well who the hell could blame me?_

There had been a mad panic at the bar after the drunk ass doctor suggested that zombies were after them. Everyone had immediately headed for the staff room, and Jim had barely had enough time to grab his crossword book before the rotten bastards bashed open the door. He had nearly wet himself.

A slight scratching sound at the end of the hall reached his ears, and he whipped out his gun, ready to cap the first sucka that moved. He froze, tense, trying to hear any groans over the sound of his thudding heart and rapid breathing. His eyes darted every which way, but there was nothing—

_Wait! What's that?_

Jim frowned, squinting his eyes to see what was at the end of the hall. It seemed that someone had used some boards along with a nail gun to create a barricade.

Maybe someone's on the other side! Someone big who can protect me! Like that security guard!

He hurried forward, a little more quickly than he meant to. Behind him, the door to the owner's room _sloooowly_ opened…

Jim peered through the planks, trying to see through to the other room. It looked deserted, but some of those…_things_…could still be in there. He listened hard, but heard no moaning or shuffling.

_What HAD happened to the others?_

Lost in his thoughts, Jim had dropped his guard.

Two hands clapped themselves over his mouth, and Jim immediately began struggling, desperately trying to pry away the hands before jagged teeth sank into his neck and tore away flesh and sinews—

"Hey!"

Jim stopped struggling. Tilting his head back until it was upside-down, he looked at the stubbly face of a smiling cop.

"I'm Kevin."

* * *

Kevin had introduced himself and apologized for startling Jim.

"I thought you would scream if I tapped you on the shoulder," he had said, grinning.

_I would have screamed_, Jim thought. _Screamed and shot you right in the face._

"Have you seen anyone else?" Kevin asked, his face growing serious.

"I haven't seen anyone since the roof," Jim admitted. "I don't know if anyone else is still alive."

"I wonder how that doctor's doing…" Kevin murmured to himself, tapping a finger on his lips.

"What'd you say?" Jim asked.

Kevin turned around and peered at Jim.

"I was concerned about the doctor," he said. "The one who had to be dragged upstairs by me and that moody guy."

"Oh. _Him_," Jim snorted. "Man, that guy was dead ass drunk! What's a doctor gotta drink for, anyway? All rich and happy…They sure ain't workin' on some minimum wage subway job!"

"Getting drunk off wine is terrible," Kevin agreed seriously, folding his arms.

"Huh! Like beer's any better!" Jim scoffed.

"Hey!" Kevin snapped, pointing a finger at Jim. "You diss beer, you diss me! Got it?"

"I got it!" Jim said quickly. Kevin had his gun out, and Jim sure as hell didn't want to get shot.

There was a tense silence, and then Kevin turned away and walked towards a table. Jim followed behind him reluctantly, wishing he could have wound up with a different partner.

"Uh…have you found a way out?" Jim asked, trying to crush the hope that rose up.

Kevin's flat "Nope" not only succeeded in crushing Jim's hope, it also stomped it flat and made sure it wouldn't come back.

"Maybe we should go back to the rooftop," Jim suggested as Kevin picked up the _Raccoon Times_. "We might've missed something."

Half-listening to Jim, half-picking up the paper, Kevin saw something blue that caught his eye.

"Huh?"

He picked the item up and looked at it closely.

"What'd ya find, man?" Jim asked, joining Kevin by his side.

"It's a key," Kevin said, a smile of triumph curving its way across his face.

The key sparked up Jim's hope again in an instant.

"Y-you mean—" he began.

"It's for that door there," Kevin said, turning around and pointing at a door whose handle had a blue hole in it.

"Excellent!" Jim cried happily. "Let's go, man!"

They hurried over to the door just as a pair of zombies reached the barricade. Jim gasped and stared at them, transfixed by their hideous appearance. Both of the fleshless freaks started pounding and tearing at the barricade, and, almost immediately, tore one of the planks off.

Kevin grabbed Jim by his arm and pulled him along behind him.

"Come on!" he urged, running up the stairs while Jim tried not to fall.

As they went into the liquor room, they heard a loud crash from downstairs.

"Sounds like they've broken through," Kevin said grimly.

They both ran around the corner and down a long passage to a room with a forklift. Jim spotted a ladder and immediately ran for it.

"Kevin! Hurry!" he cried, hurrying up it.

Kevin followed him after a moment's hesitation, and they both crawled across crates to a square opening.

"Who raised the forklift, I wonder?" Kevin said out loud.

"Who cares!" Jim exclaimed, crawling as fast as he could. "We're almost free!"

They crawled out of the opening and ran up a flight of stairs, heading through a door and out onto the rooftop.

"Hey!" Kevin exclaimed, pointing. "Someone shot down those bastard crows!"

"And knocked down part of the fence!" Jim added.

Just then, they heard, with their magic supersonic hearing, a policeman ordering everyone to come down to the front of the bar.

"Go!" Kevin cried, running to the place where the fence used to be.

Jim hurried after him, and they both reached a spot where they had to jump across to the other roof.

"Didn't we already do this?" Kevin asked, puzzled.

"I don't know," Jim said. "Why don't you go first. I'm nervous."

Kevin backed up a few paces, and then leapt across to the other side. He motioned for Jim to follow. Jim stepped to the edge and looked down. He gulped nervously, then took a few steps back and jumped. His hands hit the building, and—

Slipped. Jim managed to cling on with one hand, but he couldn't pull himself up. The terrifying sound of an undead choir moaning below him was almost too much.

"Help! Please help me!" Jim screamed.

There was no answer from Kevin. Had he left?

Jim swallowed hard, sweat covering his face and moistening his hand. He had to calm down or else he was going to plummet to his death.

Oh, yeah, no pressure at all.

A gloved hand grabbed his dangling arm, and Kevin's smiling head poked over the top of the building.

"Hurry up, slowpoke," he grunted, pulling Jim onto the roof.

"Thanks," Jim breathed, wiping his sweaty forehead. "I thought you left."

"Uh, hello?" Kevin said, tapping his shirt. "Police officer? Serve and protect?"

Jim grinned sheepishly.

"Come on, let's go," Kevin said, jogging towards the lone door.

They took the elevator inside down, and Kevin stopped outside to pick up a "green herb".

"What's this used for?" Kevin said to himself.

"I'll show you, man," Jim said, digging in his pocket. "I think I have some paper and a lighter somewhere—"

A high-pitched moan caught their attention, and they looked up just in time to see a female zombie come around the corner.

"I got her," Kevin said, aiming his gun.

He was motionless for a while, and then he readjusted his aim.

"Come on, man!" Jim urged. "Whatchoo waitin' for?"

Kevin fired a bullet straight into its head, and the freak crumpled to the floor. Kevin smirked and twirled his gun.

"Oh yeah. That's the old Ryster," he grinned.

They both ran down the hall and to the left, and flung open the door.

As they decended the steps, a scene of chaos met their eyes.

People ran screaming, pursued by zombies. Most were caught, and they were quickly eaten alive, their screams echoing shrilly and then fading in the chill night air. Cops, emptying rounds to their last breath. One cop in particular seemed to be holding his own. That might have been due to his bigass shotgun.

"You two can help!" he called to them, blasting zombies left and right. "Push the police cars and form a barricade!"

"You push the car, and I'll hold 'em off," Kevin said.

"No way, man!" Jim yelled.

"Just DO it!" Kevin snapped, pushing Jim forward.

They jogged over to some cars that were farther away, and Jim started pushing. Kevin readied his handgun, and started blasting the zombies that leaked through. They fell to the ground, but Kevin knew they would get up again.

"Done!" Jim cried, hurrying up to Kevin.

"Good," Kevin sighed in relief, lowering his handgun.

"Kevin! Behind you!" Jim cried, pointing at a zombie.

Kevin spun around just in time to be grabbed by it. He wrestled with it, trying to bring up his handgun. He shook and arm free, and pointed his handgun at its head.

"See ya, sucker," he sneered, and pulled the trigger.

_Click_.

Kevin froze, horrified. He was out of ammo?

Click click click.

"Shit!" Kevin yelled as the monster opened its mouth and leaned forward, strands of slimey spit making its rotting teeth glisten.

_Blam!_

The zombie flinched and staggered backwards, releasing Kevin and falling to the ground. Kevin fell to the ground as well, his legs weak from his narrow escape.

"You're safe," a voice said. "No need to thank me."

Kevin looked up and saw the doctor framed in the police car's headlights, looking like some sort of heavenly savior. The doctor had extended his hand to Kevin, and was smiling down at him.

Kevin let himself be pulled to his feet, and dusted himself off.

"Thanks," he said, grinning at the doctor. "You're a real life saver."

They stood there, grinning at each other, before two things ruined the moment. The first was:

"Oh my GAWD! That zombie almost KILLED you!"(Jim)

And the second was:

"Why are you so damn happy, copper? You getting a boner from lookin' at the Doc?" (David)

Kevin immediately stopped grinning. He scowled at the moody guy.

"Why are you here?" he asked angrily.

Moody guy jerked his head towards the doctor (who had turned red). "I'm with him."

"Hmph!" Kevin grunted. "Are there any others?"

"Two white chicks, an Asian chick, and a big black guy," Moody guy said, chewing on a toothpick.

Jim, Kevin, and the two other men walked over to the four survivors.

A blonde woman in pink stepped forward when she saw them coming.

"We just introduced ourselves to each other," she reported. "we might as well work together, since we've been thrown together in these circumstances. But it's easier to work together if we know each other."

"I'm Kevin," Kevin said, glaring sideways at David.

"I'm, uh, George," George said, glancing nervously from Kevin to David, who were on either side of him.

"Jim," Jim said, and the waitress smiled at him.

There was a long silence as everyone waited for moody guy to say something. He glared back at all of them (but mostly at Kevin) before responding.

"David," he grunted.

"I'm Alyssa, she's Cindy, she's Yoko, and he's Mark," Alyssa said, gesturing at the waitress, student, and security guard, respectively.

"Nice to meet you," Kevin said, shaking George's hand and making David scowl.

"Uh…the pleasure's all mine," George replied quickly.

"Okay people, listen up!" Alyssa said. "We can make another barricade by pushing these two cop cars together. Then we'll wait for more instructions from the cop."

Kevin realized everyone was staring at him.

"What?" he asked. "She means the cop with the shotgun."

So the eight of them banded together, but little did they know, only two of them would survive…

* * *

Wow, an update. Thank you so much reviewers. I love you to death. I have a myspace in case anyone wants to be my buddy (pretty please?). Just go to myspace, then search under email for: Hope to add you soon! This is on my FF profile as well.

By the way, Cindy and Alyssa were paired up together. So were Yoko and Mark. Just in case you were wondering. Oh yeah…I played the game for the first time. Hurray!


End file.
